Amani al-Khatahtbeh started her website MuslimGirl.net – which has one million unique readers, and a roster of about 50 editors and writers – “with a $9 domain registration”, in 2009, when she was a teenager in high school. She started publishing blogs on the site with friends from her mosque, inspired, Khatahtbeh says, “to push back against society’s imposition of ‘voicelessness’ and ‘docility’ on young Muslim women”.

MuslimGirl has published stories on gay imams, “how to cope with your period as a Muslim woman”, and anti-black racism in the Muslim community – “taboo topics”, Khatahtbeh says, that before MuslimGirl she was unable to find a source for online.

She is now 23, a graduate of Rutgers University in New Jersey and, according to the New York Times, a “media titan”. Last year Khatahtbeh was due to start an MA in Arab studies, but withdrew “because of how quickly things were picking up with MuslimGirl”, which not long ago received “significant investment … I can finally start paying Muslim women for the work that they do! Because until now it’s been a labour of love.”

Someone online tracked down the hotel where I was staying and threateningly tweeted its info at me and my friend

Amani al-Khatahtbeh

When we spoke over Skype, Khatahtbeh had just flown back to her home in New York from Los Angeles, where she had been invited to give a sermon at the Women’s Mosque of America.

What did you give your sermon about?

Um … Batman. [Laughs]

Excuse me?

Do you know the movie The Dark Knight Rises? It’s one of my favourites. I basically talked about the metaphor of “the pit” in that movie. [For the unfamiliar: about halfway through the film Batman gets thrown into a pit by the bad guy, Bane, who had once been thrown into this same pit himself. The struggle to get out was what turned Bane bad. Batman only came out of it a better goodie.] I compared it to our experience of Muslim-Americans with 9/11. Many of us, we had our entire lives turned upside down by that, by this new era of hatred. Some of us were born into it. Racism … Hate crimes … Islamophobia every single day. In my sermon I asked whether we were going to let ourselves be moulded by the darkness. Or if we were going to be like Batman and resolutely try to get to the top of the pit and defy perceptions.

MuslimGirl was first launched six years ago. How many readers did you have when you started?

Oh man, I don’t even know. Possibly a thousand in a good month? It’s so hard to tell. Our readership multiplied tenfold when we developed a volunteer staff and started turning it into a real publication at the start of 2015. Things have taken off soaring since then.

Founding Editor-in-Chief, CEO of Muslim Girl Amani Al-Khatahtbeh rings the NASDAQ opening bell in New York last month. Photograph: @@xoamani

Did the 2009 version of you expect all this?

To be honest, MuslimGirl has taken on a life of its own that far surpassed any possible expectation I could have had for it. This was just a hobby for me. It’s turned into a social movement, one that young women – many of whom are the same age I was when I started it and some of whom don’t even identify as Muslim – are cultivating into something unique to themselves individually. My job now is to establish this into a sustainable source of empowerment for women for the long term. This is the new goal to which I hold myself: making history by becoming the first mainstream media network by and for Muslim women.

You mentioned earlier that some of your contributors don’t “identify as Muslim”. Was there ever a time in your life when you didn’t identify as Muslim?

When I was in middle school [aged 11] I didn’t wear a headscarf, I kind of hid the fact that I was a Muslim, I lied about it, because I was so embarrassed by it – everything that was going on on the news. I was scared of what people would think of me. I was young.

You attend technology conferences and events around America. I’m guessing you don’t come across loads of others, in that world, who wear the hijab.

It’s lacking! But I think it can be transformative, to have women of colour, especially Muslim women, especially veiled Muslim women, in the tech world. We need to uplift our visibility. Visibility is crucial.

Amani al-Khatahtbeh, left, attends the ringing of the opening bell at the Nasdaq in New York in January 2016. Photograph: Brad Barket/Getty Images

Do you know if you have a non-Muslim readership?

Pretty recently I met a Hindu mother. She has a 14-year-old daughter. She told me that every night, before her daughter goes to bed, they read a printed-out article from MuslimGirl together. That’s kind of their self-esteem-building exercise at the end of a long day. And that’s coming from a Hindu family! That was incredible to hear – that MuslimGirl, and what we present, can transcend a lot of the struggle that I believe women of colour all share together. Push forward visibility and it can go a long way. It can have an impact just to see people like you taking up space.

You’ve had things to say about Richard Dawkins and his tricky online statements about Islam. And of course we’re living in the age of Donald Trump’s presidential campaign and all its attendant nonsense. Does it make you despair that these careless old white guys take up quite so much space?

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Oh, sure. But it’s even more crucial to say that it really is a matter of life or death for us. It’s not just, “Oh, how come they get the spotlight, are our voices are being marginalised?” The impact they have, on our everyday experience … Every Muslim in America today is one hate crime away from losing their life. It is that serious. It’s not only about getting our voices out there, it’s about shifting the narrative and fighting back. You know, with MuslimGirl, I’m so proud we represent young women that people might want to hang out with. You read MuslimGirl and you think, “Wow, these girls are cool. Wow, they’re normal people too.” Often we’re just literally trying to show that we’re human beings. And that’s something that I feel we’re at risk of being robbed of.

What do you make of the web being a platform for free speech in an era of no-platforming? Do you have strong feelings about the no-platforming debate?

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I think that universities and other institutions only involve themselves with policing over web content when it’s politicised or serving an agenda. And it’s really sad when that happens. The double-edged sword of the internet is that it’s a no man’s land and as such it should be an equaliser of sorts: offering a level playing field to all sorts of competing opinions. That’s what allows MuslimGirl and our narratives to have a fighting chance.

What role does social media play in shaping identity? It is a boon or a hindrance to have it so present in life?

I think that social media allows us to carry a microphone in our pockets. We can reach literally millions of people right from our fingertips. It can be an exceptionally powerful tool if we challenge ourselves to use it in innovative ways. The beauty of it is that there are no borders, so our reach is potentially limitless.

You’ve published some controversial stuff on the site. Are there risks?

Of course there are. Aside from the personal entrepreneurial risks that can really impact livelihoods, it’s also scary being so public about issues that are so controversial for some people … A couple of months ago, while doing some live coverage of the protests [of the shooting of] Laquan McDonald in Chicago, someone online tracked down the hotel where I was staying and threateningly tweeted its info at me and my friend. It’s been really weird for me to comprehend this new level of visibility now and to adjust to it accordingly. It’s like, “What? People are watching what I do now? I have to start taking extra precautions?”

Do you receive abuse online?

All the time. And some people aren’t ashamed to administer it publicly and via social media either.

You’ve been asked to appear as a talking head on mainstream news channels. Are you happy to do that sort of thing – speak for Muslim women, as it were? Or do you have doubts about it?

The thing is that Muslim women really don’t need anyone to speak on their behalf because we are not a monolith and we each have our own individual voices. What I’m trying to do is verbalise a lived experience that I believe we have all shared collectively, even globally, in this post-9/11 era. I’m grateful to be able to use the privileges I have to offer a new image and narrative for Muslim women in the media. And it’s my personal goal to make such privileges accessible to as many Muslim women as possible. We need to uplift as many voices on to these platforms as we can.